Hairy Situations
by cutiepie5514
Summary: Has anyone ever had dreams, fantasies, and/or visions about cutting Gin's hair? Well, if you have, this is for you. It's long, it's voluminous... and it's got to go. *A collection of oneshots about destroying Gin's precious locks. ; )
1. Chapter 1

**Um… what can I say? Not my usual fandom, but I am too engrossed in this topic to just let it go. Yes, this isn't my usual fandom, so any MR fanfiction followers, you should probably click away now.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own DC. Obviously.**

**Chapter: Split Ends**

**3rd Person POV**

Vermouth stared intently at her coworker, the unmistakable Gin. She frowned when looking at him, but didn't know why. There was something… different about him. His eyes were surrounded by deep bags and three empty coffee cups were placed on his shiny, black desk.

Curiosity getting the best of her, Vermouth lifted herself out of the comfortable chair she was sitting in and walked over to one of Gin's biggest supporters, Chianti. It was quite clear that Vermouth and Chianti weren't the friendliest pair, so as Chianti laid eyes on the tall, blond woman towering over her, she was surprised.

"Yes?" Chianti asked, wanting Vermouth to leave her alone as quickly as possible.

Vermouth smiled and took her sweet time formulating the words that came out of her mouth, "Well… I was just wondering what was going on with Gin?"

Chianti didn't even spare a glance at Gin when Vermouth spoke. "You mean you don't know?"

"Don't know what? I'm quite aware of the obvious lack of sleep, if that's what you're referring to."

Chianti rolled her eyes at the foolish assumption that _that_ was what she was talking about. "Tell me, Vermouth, when was the last time you've had a job?"

Vermouth had to think back. "About two weeks… in fact, Gin hasn't assigned anyone a job since a couple weeks back. That's when he started to change…"

Chianti nodded eagerly, reassuring Vermouth that she was on the right track. "And when was the last time he shot someone?"

"An entire month ago…" Vermouth said, her eyes widening in realization that whatever Gin had… it was bad. "But why?"

Chianti looked around for eavesdroppers before turning back to Vermouth. "Split ends." She whispered, and then glanced around frantically to verify that no one had been listening once more.

"Split ends?" Vermouth asked, incredulous.

"Shhhh!" Chianti whisper-hissed. "If Gin knows I told you about it, he'll wring my neck."

"But… split ends? What does that have to do with anything?"

Chianti sighed impatiently. "His _hair_. It has split ends. They were awful – worst case I've ever seen." She shivered involuntarily. "I told him to just cut the hair, even if it was just a little bit, but he refused."

Vermouth nodded, taking in the information Chianti was offering.

"Oh, that's not even the half of it!" Chianti said eagerly. "He's spent the last couple of weeks searching for a shampoo-conditioner combo that will cure him. He's tried everything, the Internet, his mom's home remedy, stores – I think he bought the entire hair-care aisle at every Walmart in town!"

Though thoroughly engrossed by the tales of Gin that Chianti was telling, Vermouth acted as nonchalant as ever while she thanked Chianti and walked away.

She dropped into her chair, her legs crossed, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

How could she fix his dilemma? Not that it didn't give her extreme pleasure to gaze at a disgruntled Gin every now and then, but this was too much. Without someone handing out jobs, the entire Organization could go down. Now, how could-

_Snort._

Vermouth whipped her head around in fury, searching for the one who had interrupted her working train of thought. Her eyes quickly landed on Gin, snorting and snoring in his sleep. He had passed out on his desk, and if you squinted hard enough, he would look a like a little girl sleeping peacefully.

Vermouth sighed, bored of this little display. As she began to rethink her situation, he eyes landed on the long pair of scissors, sitting neatly on top of her own desk. She eyed them evilly, for she knew a perfect use for them.

Slowly, a grin began to spread across her narrow features. Scissors in hand, she stood up and walked over to her intended target.

* * *

Gin blinked his eyes repeatedly, trying to adjust to the bright lights in the Black Organization office.

_Why is it so bright, _He thought irritably, _if this is the _Black _Organization office?_

Heaving a sigh, Gin realized with a jolt that he had in fact fell asleep again on top of his desk. Even the drool stain on his desk seemed to yell at him for falling asleep in the middle of his important task.

Gin stared at the "Get Rid of Split Ends!" manual he had been reading before dozing off. With a fury at himself and his not-so-compliant hair, Gin stood up and chucked the manual at the ground with such force he felt a bit off balance.

Gin steadied himself, but still felt the same feeling of being off balance. The next thing he realized was that he didn't feel the familiar tickle of his hair on his back. With caution, Gin brought his hand up to the top of his hand and began to rake his fingers through his hair in the well-known gesture.

His eyes widened in realization when he felt no hair from his ear down, "It's gone." He whispered to no one really but himself.

Only then did he see the pink writing scrawled across the "Get Rid of Split Ends!" manual. He bent down to pick it up and immediately recognized the writing was in lipstick. Shade 55, Rose Pink to be exact. Not only did he recognize the shade, he knew exactly who used it, too. No, not his mother, she used shade 57.

With my fury, rage, and plain old emotion than anyone had ever heard Gin speak, he roared, "VERMOUTH!"

Giving sharpshooters shivers at the thought of them, giving top-ranking disguise agents ideas to destroy them, and sending a nearly emotionless man into rage. It seems that's what split ends do to people.

**Yes! What did everyone (if anyone is actually reading this – which I doubt) think? This story is going to be made up of multiple one-shots involving many different characters. Heiji, Conan, maybe even Kaito Kid? Who knows? I sure don't.**

**-cutiepie5514**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ack! I know it's been forever since I updated this and let me say: I am so sorry. I was busy with life, school, donkeys, projects, cats, fishing wire… you know, the usual. But I'm back! (Maybe…?)**

**Anyway, here you go.**

**Ch. 2:**

Kaito Kuroba had never been one to get jealous. Never had he needed to be jealous, in fact. It wasn't necessary because, to be quite honest, he was content with everything. Girls adored him and his mischievous alter ego. His childhood friend had lost her mop as of recently. He had most everything he wanted.

Okay, _sure_, he could remember an occasion or two when he'd felt slightly jealous. Like when Hakuba was being annoyingly perfect. Or when a kid in his grade beat him in the talent show (He was still pondering that one. How could someone have actually beaten his magic tricks?).

But never, ever had he been jealous like this. It had all begun a few nights ago on a normal heist. Well, as normal as his heists were in the first place.

All he had been trying to do was steal a measly, priceless gem. Nothing big. But, as always, the annoying little brat with the glasses had to come and try to catch him. Unfortunately, this time specifically, he dragged in tow a few members of the so-called Black Organization. Just to clarify, this organization had nothing to do with _his_ organization, the one after immortality. _Right_.

The members following him were of the following: A tall blond woman, a hefty, bigger guy, and a man with long, flowing golden-blond hair. _Gin_, Kaito had heard the glasses-kid call him.

Well, seeing as they had just busted into the heist he was in the middle of competing, the public watching him intensely had no choice but to interfere from below the building by shouting at them. One minute girls were swooning over Kaito. The next, Inspector Nakamori was yelling a stream of violent threats of the elusive thief. And after that?

Well, after that came the hair. It was awful. So awful. The public, seeing Gin standing so close to Kaito and the others, began to observe him. Soon the entire city of Tokyo was in a huge debate over one thing. Kaito Kid vs. The Blond Man: Who has better hair?

The results came out painfully late the next day, and with results of 55.1725% and 44.8275% in favor of Gin, and Kaito had been distraught. There was no doubt in his mind, Kaito was jealous. He was used to being the best, sometimes even the best of the best. So this… this was new.

He had formulated a plan, though. A plan that would put him nowhere but on top.

* * *

Gin wandered through the aisles of the drug store purposefully. After an awful dream about dandruff, Chianti, Vermouth, and a pair of scissors, he was certain he would never let anything that awful, which is why he was out to buy dandruff shampoo.

He felt awkward strolling down the aisles seeing as he usually sent that dimwitted assistant of his- sorry, _Vodka_, out to do all his shopping. Somehow, this felt much too personal (it was his precious locks after all) to let Vodka shop for it.

"Do you need some help, sir?" A woman's voice asked from behind. He whipped around to see a salesclerk standing there, smiling at him.

He was about to reject when he realized he was sure quite where to go. He nodded and simply said, "Dandruff shampoo."

The lady smiled again and gestured for him to follow. They entered an aisle at the end of the store, it was completely empty and Gin began to frown at the salesclerk.

"You have very nice blond hair, you know." She said suddenly.

His frown deepened. "It's supposed to be silver! The damn anime staff messed it up!" She shot him a confused look before ripping of her face. Yes, you heard, _ripping of her face. _Looming behind the disguise was Kaito Kid, ready to strike.

"You." Gin hissed, looking at and immediately recognizing the guy he had been in a hair battle with. Kaito only grinned.

Kaito whipped scissors from the school supplies aisle out of his apron and came sprinting at Gin. Gin screamed, sounding surprisingly like a schoolgirl, and tried to run. He didn't get far, for the scissors were soon snipping away.

Gin shut his eyes in fear and choked back his sobs. When he finally opened his eyes, the elusive thief was gone, not leaving a trace besides the hair he had snipped on the floor.

Habitually, as he did in tense situations, Gin ran his fingers through his hair. He choked back another sob as the hair ended at only his shoulders. _This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. This wasn't-_

* * *

"AH!" Gin screamed, jolting awake from another nightmare. Cautiously, he fingered his hair. All there. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then he began to mutter to himself. Sometimes it was curse words; sometimes it was reassurances that his hair and all its glory were okay.

From a spectators perspective, though, the only words that you could really make out that he was saying were along the lines of, "God, that was worse than the dandruff."

**And that's a wrap. By the way, you all should check out V. Tsai and her stories, because she's an awesome cat.**

**-cutiepie5514**


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